


Snow Day

by shieldivarius



Series: Phil Coulson: High School Principal [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Ultimate Spider-Man (Cartoon)
Genre: Crossover, Established Relationship, Fluff, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-30
Updated: 2014-03-30
Packaged: 2018-01-17 14:40:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1391431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shieldivarius/pseuds/shieldivarius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trapping Sandman in the hourglass on the Helicarrier may have meant there was no need to put the kids through Decontamination, but he wouldn’t deny that it felt good.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snow Day

**Author's Note:**

> You probably do need to have seen the Snow Day episode of Ultimate Spider-Man to understand this one.
> 
> But hey it's on Netflix (at least, Canadian Netflix...).

“Where are your kids today, Phil?” Natasha asked, gazing out the window at the snow quickly accumulating on the streets below. The smells of cooking eggs and bacon filled Clint’s little Brooklyn apartment. 

Phil flipped the eggs in the frying pan and, spatula still in hand, darted across the kitchen to put the bread down in the toaster. 

“Field training, for dealing with snow,” he said. Then, “ _My_ kids? Is this how we’re referring to them now?”

“Yep,” Clint said, a loud yawn followed the words as the man in question thudded down the stairs from the loft-style bedroom above. 

“They’re hardly mine,” Phil replied. 

“You’re their team leader _and_ the principal of their high school,” Natasha said. “They’re yours.”

“Not to mention,” Clint said, leaning over the hot pan of frying bacon and reaching one hand in. “You spend— _yowch!_ ” The grease in the bottom of the pan popped, spitting spatter on Clint’s outstretched hand. He pulled back, shaking it and glowering at the offending pan.

Phil turned the heat off on both eggs and bacon and the toaster popped. “You were saying?” he asked, lifting strips of greasy meat into a paper-towel covered bowl and patting them off. Beside him, Natasha buttered the toast. 

“You spend way more time with them than anyone else,” Clint finished, running his hand under cold water. Phil frowned. It was, unfortunately, true and he couldn’t fault Clint for pointing it out—again. 

“I’m here now,” he murmured, dividing food onto three plates.

Clint opened his mouth to say something else, but Natasha cleared her throat before he could start.

Phil sighed. “Maybe we should talk about this,” he suggested as they, all three, leaned against the counter to eat instead of trying to find space around Clint’s tiny dining room table. “I understand that you’re bored. That S.H.I.E.L.D. hasn’t been using either of you as much since the Chitauri invasion. I can talk to Director Fury and—“

“That’s not what this is about,” Clint muttered, stabbing at his eggs. Natasha, though, looked thoughtful.

“No, it is. A little,” she said. Clint’s expression said he had no idea what she was talking about, but Phil could see her going over what she was going to say, framing her thoughts into careful words before she started speaking.

When she did, she looked at Clint instead of Phil. “Sometimes we forget that we are—”

“S.H.I.E.L.D. does not place more value in me than in you,” Phil said, cutting across her, worried she was going to voice something he didn’t want to go anywhere near. “Either of you.”

“That’s not what I was going to say,” Natasha said with an amused lift of her eyebrow. “But thank you, Darling.” When she continued speaking, it was with one of her hands pressed on top of Phil’s.

“What I _was_ going to say, is that Clint and I forget that before all of this started, we were given missions separate from you— _miles_ separate—constantly. No complaints.”

“It’s different when I’m local and have strict parameters to adhere to about being able to see you,” Phil said. “I know.”

Clint took a bite of egg-covered toast. “I didn’t forget,” he said. “The scenarios are totally different.” The looks they were giving each other told Phil this was hardly a new argument. He sighed.

“I’m going to talk to Fury and find you both something to do so you stop—“

A ringing started up from the counter, cutting him off before he could use a word that he probably didn’t actually want to slip from his lips anyway. 

“Coulson,” he said, catching the device Clint threw him and flipping it open. The device was his S.H.I.E.L.D. direct line and Fury stared back at him—not a face he wanted to see when his charges were supposed to be off training and he was in the middle of a personal life crisis. 

“We have a rogue jet that took itself south. Guess who took it.”

Phil groaned. They couldn’t have. They didn’t. 

Why today.

“South where?” he asked, glancing around the kitchen until he found where he’d dumped his bag. Natasha and Clint looked some mixture between concerned and amused, leaning far more toward amused. Of course. Neither of them had to deal with this.

“The Bermuda Triangle. Remember that island we dumped Sandman off on?”

Phil swore. “I’ll be on the Helicarrier in half an hour,” he said. “Let me know if they show back up on this latitude before then.” He disconnected the feed.

“Teenagers, huh, Phil?” Clint commented, laughing. 

“I have to go. I’m so sorry, we’ll have to finish this later.”

“Finish your meal. Fury can wait that long,” Natasha said. Phil glanced at the clock before doing as bid. 

“I’m sorry,” he said again, swapping out the t-shirt he’d been wearing around the apartment for a S.H.I.E.L.D. issued one with the eagle emblazoned on the breast.

“Don’t be,” Natasha said. “Go take care of your kids.”

“They’re not—“

They both gave him heavy, level looks and he sighed.

“Yeah, okay.”

 

Trapping Sandman in the hourglass on the Helicarrier may have meant there was no need to put the kids through Decontamination, but he wouldn’t deny that it felt good.

**Author's Note:**

> http://shieldivarius.tumblr.com


End file.
